If one has trigeminal neuralgia, terror can rule the night. I was married when I had pain so horrific that my spouse sometimes awakened me, explaining that he could not sleep because I was screaming. I was amazed by the fact that I could slumber in spite of my physical distress.

I am aware that I am not the only one who has slept through his or her nocturnal pain, but I do not know who shares this experience. When I began my internship for TNA, The Facial Pain Association, I heard that Dr. Joanna M. Zakrzewska would be studying this phenomenon. Although I got an email from her regarding the proposed research topic, I did not hear more about it. I was comforted, however, by knowing I was not the only person with this bizarre story.

Knowing we are not alone in our suffering is part of the validation process. I have taken many calls from individuals who felt they had to explain the pain to me. When they discovered that I had also endured it, I would always hear a sigh of relief. The caller could move onto the questions he or she had for me with assurance that I “got it.”

When night falls and people who have TN try to sleep, pain and fear can heighten. One reason is that trigeminal neuralgia, glossopharyngeal neuralgia, and other types of neuropathic facial issues, often get worse when an individual lies down. Also when we are not distracted by the business of the day, pain comes to the forefront of our consciousness. In a future post, I will feature a guest who will address these issues further.

In the night our mind, spirit, and body connection seems to increase. Consider the dreams you have had on occasion, how they revealed your unspoken desires, your deepest fears.

Fear is the enemy of anyone who has trigeminal neuralgia. We are frightened by the electrocution-type pains and wonder how we can endure more of them. After all, anyone who knows that he or she will get struck by lightening in the future has a right to be afraid.

We cannot control the pain, but we can try to reign in the trepidation. How we benefit from the mind, spirit, and body connection? By saying a prayer, we involve all three aspects of our being. Will you read this prayer with me? It is the 23^rd Psalm.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of righteousness For His name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil; My cup runs over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me All the days of my life; And I will dwelling the house of the Lord Forever.By reading the prayer, we use both mind and body even if we read silently. And if saying the 23^rd Psalm is done in hopes of having a better night, an individual has employed faith. Prayer could a be the vehicle that helps you begin to mend. 

Faith is like a muscle. If we do not use it, it shrinks to nothing. Pump up! Believe you can get better. 

The post Trigeminal neuralgia and night terrors appeared first on Kathy Maresca's Site.

Jay came into Kelli’s life when I was hoping my daughter would make true, lifelong friends. When we are young, it seems easy to find individuals who want to spend time with us, but often they want to compete, to backstab, and don’t understand “true-blue.” But Jay is loyal, and I am thankful for her.

Jay’s father has been gravely ill, unable to speak. If you have had a cranial nerve disorder like trigeminal or glossopharyngeal neuralgia, you know what that is like. A picture today shows him in his hospital bed, holding a sign thanking people for their prayers.

When I saw it, I did what many rehab counselors would do. I cried.

How many lap-size whiteboards have I used? More important, how many hands have I held? I cannot count them, those hands that reached for mine when I could not talk, breathe, open my eyes swallow, chew, or brush my teeth. Being unable to breathe would last but a moment, but the other symptoms of the cranial nerve disorders persisted.

Whiteboards, legal pads, faxes, texts, and emails: at times I have been able to communicate only with those. But like Jay’s dad, I recovered. Prayers, hands that touched mine only through a spiritual dimension, helped me through.

When someone asks for prayers, let’s really say them. God bless you and your family, Jay. Love is stronger than pain.

The post The Whiteboard appeared first on Kathy Maresca's Site.